"Once you are mine, even the Emperor will not be able to separate us," he assured her confidently, "and you can always rely upon my love and protection. I am sure the Austrians and Hungarians will take my lovely bride to their hearts."
With the venue settled upon there was only one thing more to do, and that was for the archduke to send for "a few thousand marks" for the expenses of their wedding and subsequent honeymoon. He spoke so glibly of his immense fortune that poor Maria did not dare to refer to the fifty thousand marks she had in the bank at Essen. However, he spared her any embarrassment by laughingly advising her to take whatever money she had out of the German banks in case "the Emperor, my uncle, should try to deprive you of it." Maria accordingly sent instructions to her bankers, and shortly she had two thousand five hundred pounds in her possession, but only for a short time, for she handed it over to "Franz" for safe keeping on his suggestion.
The portly housekeeper and the melancholy archduke stole out of Aix-la-Chapelle late one night, and, travelling by a circuitous route, reached London two days later. They were both dead tired, but nevertheless very happy, and for the time being the Austrian heir seemed to have become another man. He could laugh and joke and talk rapturously of the love he bore his bride, and he was all impatience for their brief journey to the register office in the neighbourhood of the Strand.
London was crowded at the time. In the previous June Queen Victoria had celebrated her Diamond Jubilee, and if all the royalties had departed there were sufficient notable sight-seers from all corners of the earth to make the great city more than usually interesting.
"It is the best time for us," said the archduke, beaming upon Maria as they prepared to leave the hotel for the register office. "These Londoners have had so much royalty in their midst lately that they won't trouble to bother about me."
The dingy register office seemed to Maria Hussmann a veritable Fairyland setting for her romance when she stood beside Francis Ferdinand, and the wheezy official turned them into man and wife in the most matter-of-fact manner. She regretted that they had to give false names, but she was well aware that that small fraud would not invalidate the marriage.
A couple of clerks, called in, and rewarded with half a sovereign each, officiated as witnesses, and then Maria and her princely husband went out into the sunshine and tried to realize that the wonderful event had happened.
They had a merry little lunch for two at the Savoy Hotel, and in the afternoon they went for a drive through London. At night they had a box at one of the principal theatres, and Francis Ferdinand talked of taking her down to Windsor to see the Queen.
"Her Majesty has a womanly heart, and she will sympathize with us," he declared. How Maria's heart beat when she listened to him talking so familiarly of the crowned heads of Europe! "She'll stand by us, and she's the most powerful woman in the world. I know Wilhelm will bluster and Nicholas shed tears over my supposed loss of dignity, but I don't care."
Maria had agreed to keep their marriage a secret until her husband had chosen the right moment to break the news to his uncle, the Emperor Francis Joseph, and what with daily drives, visits to the theatres, and exciting plans for a tour of the Courts of Europe, she let a whole week go by in London without having broken her promise. Yet she wished that she could tell some of the people at the Savoy, especially those fashionable dames who were in the habit of regarding her with unfavourable looks. It would make them treat her respectfully. It was all very well for Francis Ferdinand to wish for privacy, but she was crazy with anxiety to astonish Europe with news of her exploit.